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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364244">Silence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volkihars/pseuds/Volkihars'>Volkihars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, its not super au-y but it'll get there eventually, symphony of the night references :)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:40:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volkihars/pseuds/Volkihars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Another day of eating when he’s not hungry, of forcing himself to bathe and drink water and keep himself alive. He felt more like a ghost haunting a porcelain doll than a man."<br/>--<br/>i think symphony of the night’s characterization of alucard is so good and i wanted to replicate it, as i felt like his grief was a lot more three dimensional than his depiction in season 3, so i decided to write a little sadfic :3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><a href="https://bendwill.tumblr.com/post/613519194946928640/alucard-an-analysis">here's</a> a thing i wrote regarding my issue's with alucard's characterization throughout season 3. i was thinking about him and so i decided to write something more in character than s3. despite me hating most of season 3 the first like 5 minutes of alucard just cooking slapped so part of this is inspired by that heavily. this will continue at some point (idk when)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Silence. Even when accompanied by the sounds of the forest, the isolation was killing Alucard. It’s not like he had any other options. The dhampir couldn’t seek out anyone for fear of the castle being ransacked, so here he was. Alone with his thoughts, alone with his grief, left to search the woods for something that would give him sustenance at the very least, if not a motivation beyond commitment to the world.</p>
<p>	While spring had certainly come, the shade of the forest along with weeks of not feeding made him chilly. Gloved hands in his coat pockets, he summoned his sword to slice a small tree into bits. One sliver ended up smoother and sharper than he’d expected, with a little hole at the top. He pocketed it in the hopes that he’d have some menial craft to do that would magically give him the will to live. Obligation keeps his heart pumping, but beyond that, he felt so… empty, for lack of a better word. Isolation and utterly mind-numbing grief will do that to you, he supposed.</p>
<p>	After hours of searching, he was left with the needle from before along with a few carrots, a handful of currants and a couple turnips. Not exactly a royal dinner, but it would have to do. He walked back to his castle, up the stairs to the kitchen. His steps echoed in the castle. The outdoors may be quiet and isolated but at least they were slightly less haunted. </p>
<p>The bar isn’t particularly high to be less haunted than Dracula’s fucking castle, as the wind in some of the rooms seemed to come from nowhere. It’s not like the outdoors weren’t haunted too, due to the battle that went on there between Carmilla and Dracula, but the castle just felt like a nightmare. The barren, broken hallways and painful memories were far more harsh than even the often turbulent weather. </p>
<p>After cooking his meager dinner, Alucard retreated to the Belmont hold. It may be broken in some places, but at least it’s not his own grief he’s plagued with, as he sits down with a rather informative book on the famed Rune Sword, a sword carried by Dodos of all animals. The book opened in an odd fashion, flipping the embossed castle on the cover upside down. After reading and finishing his dinner, Alucard paced around the castle, looking for something to read to distract him.</p>
<p>	Unfortunately, most of the Belmont trove’s hearty assortment of information didn’t help distract him, as their main goal was killing vampires, such as his father. Dracula returns every hundred years. The knowledge that he’d have to relive this grief if a century’s Belmont were to be out of commission (or God forbid, Trevor was really the last Belmont) haunted him. He’d have to kill his father again, and again. Would it always hurt like this? The pain of patricide, century after century, with no foreseeable escape? </p>
<p>	Even Alucard’s name mocked him, salted his wounds. “The opposite of Dracula.” He sighed under the weight of the label, flying in bat form up to put his plate and fork in the sink. While returning to dhampir form, he noticed the needle, still in his coat pocket. He rolled the smooth stick between his gloved fingers, contemplating what to do with it, settling on sewing something with the variety of threads and pillow cases contained in the utterly ridiculous number of rooms. </p>
<p>	The sewing project became Trevor and Sypha, maybe by accident and maybe on purpose. The dolls looked… fucking horrible, if Alucard was being honest with himself. They weren’t exactly beautiful, but they were less bad than Alucard thought they were, if that makes sense. He placed them at his bedside table, ignoring the sudden urge to talk to them. A pang of loneliness rang in his chest as he held back tears for what seems like the 20th time today.</p>
<p>He changed into his pajamas and attempted to fall asleep. The classical 8-10 hour sleep schedule never really fit Alucard, but it’s better than passing out a year later in a ditch only to awaken centuries later to his father awake before him with the same old revenge. It’s also better than sleeping for hundreds of years for now, however he knows the castle will dissipate eventually and at that point he’ll have nothing better to do.</p>
<p>	Eventually, he did fall asleep, tossing and turning. Like every night, it seems, he awakes to a tear stained pillow. Another day of eating when he’s not hungry, of forcing himself to bathe and drink water and keep himself alive. He felt more like a ghost haunting a porcelain doll than a man.</p>
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